Smile Because it Happened
by d4202
Summary: sequel to "Don't Cry Because it's Over." Seriously, this won't make sense if you don't read the first one.
1. Chapter 1

A.N: Still don't own anything. This is the sequel to "Don't Cry Because It's Over." You WILL NOT understand this if you do not read the first one. I'm not sure how good this is, I feel myself slipping on this one, but I promised I'd finish it and so here we go! Tell me what you think =)

Two hours away from Star City, Kori finally convinced Roy to get gas and allow her to stretch her legs. She was restless being away from Jason, and having to stay under the radar and on the ground wasn't helping. Roy used the gas station break to pull out the phone number and shakily dial it, wondering whether he wanted someone to answer him in the middle of the night or if he'd rather it ring forever.

"Oliver Queen," a voice answered. Roy tensed.

"It's Roy," he croaked with a completely dry mouth.

There was a short pause. "How did you get this number?"

Roy let out a breathy laugh. "Nice to hear from you, too."

"Wait, Roy, you know I'm not good at this. I- we-" There was a deep sigh on the other end of the line. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know, _clean_, if that's what you're really asking. Two years and a few days." Roy couldn't keep the bite out of his voice, the anger and the resentment and the _pain_.

"I was asking how you were in general, but I'm glad you're clean. And out of jail. I wish- I wish I could have helped you. I'm sorry."

He could tell Ollie was trying, but the back of his mind, the part of him that was exactly like Jason, screamed that this was too easy.

"I wish you could have helped me, too," he said bitterly. "Whatever, forget it. Detour to hometown is canceled."

"Wait, wait! You're coming home? Roy, we should talk in person, please."

"I don't want to come home! Not to you! Not anymore."

"Then why did you call me?"

"Because my infuriating catatonic friend told me to!" Roy screamed, and two other patrons stretching their legs hurried around him. "Because I love you, but not on your terms. I love you, but I don't want to because you don't-"

"I love you too, Roy. And I miss you. Please come home."

Roy sighed deeply and couldn't choose between anger or elation. Deep down, it was what he wanted, but how deep was that desire? Was it worth it?

"Fine. One day. We'll be there in two hours."

"We?" Ollie asked, but Roy had already hung up. Jason wanted him to find good memories, and that's what he'd do.

He was silent the rest of the drive, and that bothered Kori immensely. She was nervous about what she would find in this Star City, where Roy's terrible past took form and haunted him. Would it be like Jason's past, with its thousands of unsaid words and unshed tears? Would it be like her own, with the bridges burning behind her? They were not outlaws, she realized. They were simply children of haunted pasts. The sun came up and dawn comforted her slightly, with its new beginnings and steady rise.

It was around 7:30 when they arrived on Oliver Queen's doorstep.

"You made great time coming here," Ollie said, because small talk was really the only thing he knew how to do in this moment.

"We left late last night from Gotham," Roy played along. Ollie opened the penthouse door wide and the two young antiheroes came inside.

Ollie grimaced. "Saw the Bat, did you? He's a load of fun."

"We were not there for him," Kori said. "Hello, my name is Koriand'r."

Ollie smiled brightly. "Hello, Koriand'r. I'm Oliver."

"Dude, no flirting with her," Roy said sharply, and Ollie put his hands up in mock surrender.

"So, I guess we should talk," Ollie said finally. Roy froze a bit, but nodded slowly.

"I will explore the city for a bit," Kori said. "Oh, and Oliver," she added curtly, "hurt him more than you already have and, by the end of the day, you'll be praying that you were dealing with Batman." Then, Kori left them together.

"She's a firey one," Oliver chuckled.

Roy actually did laugh at that, some of the tension erasing from his shoulders. "You have no idea."

"But I _should_ know," Ollie said quietly. "She's your friend and I should know her because I should know _you_."

Roy nodded once but didn't touch the subject. For all his annoying quips, he was speechless around his past. Then, he remembered the past he had just witnessed in Gotham.

"Do you think-" Roy stopped, gathering all his strength. "Do you remember me as that kid addicted to heroin and alcohol?"

Ollie's look was thoughtful, pensive. "I remember when you were that way, yeah. I remember the look on your face when I caught you, and that's not something I can forget. But I don't think of you like that. I see what was always underneath that crap that you did to yourself."

"You put me through crap, too," Roy accused.

"I sent you to get clean."

"You sent me _away_ and then never visited," Roy bit back. Then, he pushed his palms into his closed eyes. "God, this sounds like some stupid soap opera."

Oliver laughed quietly and then turned serious. "We can't go back, Roy. We can't bring up all those times we fought and all those times I abandoned you. You'll hate me forever and I'm not a good enough person to try and crack through that much pain. But, we can start over. Just tell me what you want."

"I want-" Roy started, but what could he say? _I want our final happy moments back. I want the person that I was before the drugs back. I want the Titans back, I want to love a girl who doesn't mind being mine. I want a home on the same continent as my almost-father. I want my almost-father. _"I want to sit and watch some TV."

Ollie's mouth widened. "W-What?"

"I want to just be normal for one second. We were in a fight. Mostly your fault, by the way. But I've realized something in the past few weeks. Anger and resentment? The only thing they're good for is making your family wish you were dead. Making _you_ wish you were dead." Roy sat on the plush couch and waited for Ollie to do the same.

Ollie smiled, brighter than Roy had ever seen, more genuine that Ollie had ever felt on his face, and sat down, turning on the television.

Kori let herself in around nine while they were dozing lightly on each other.


	2. Chapter 2

"_But I still miss you, But there's no coming home, There's no coming home, With a name like mine. . ." -Ghost Towns by Radical Face_

11:30 AM found Dick much more calm than it found Bruce, though Dick was making all the headway and Bruce just sulked and paced in the cave.

"Typical," Dick muttered as he dialed Tim's cell.

A groggy voice greeted him.

"Timmy! Usually you're up before me," Dick answered back happily.

"Yeah, yeah," Tim shot back. "What's up?"

"Is Jason with you?"

Tim was instantly alert. "He's gone?"

"He'll be back."

"He's _gone_."

"Have some faith! He'll be back." Dick rooted around the pantry, thought for a second, and then added the camping trip to the calendar.

"He's walking around Gotham in a catatonic state. What if he gets hit by a car? Shot? Mugged? Just because no one knows he's the Red Hood doesn't mean he's safe."

Dick paused. "I see your point, but he's a big boy who can take care of himself, words or no words. Maybe he hasn't been outside like this before, but if anyone knows Gotham, it's Jason."

"Well, he _has_ been like this on the streets before," Tim trailed off, Dick's hopeful tone infecting him.

"Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean he's been like this before?"

"Talia didn't find him in a coma and wake him up, he woke up on his own and spent a couple of years on the streets using survival instinct."

"How do you-" Dick's mind reeled. "How do you know that?"

Tim paused, assessing how many punches he'd get from the missing bird if he spilled about their little "breakfast club" time. "Jason told me himself. We talked over waffles once."

"How the Hell did you get him to open up?"

"Kind of besides the point right now, Dick. How did he get out of the house without anyone noticing?" Tim was getting dressed as he spoke, writing a note for when the rest of the Titans woke up and found him gone.

"How did he live under our noses without us noticing? We really weren't looking." Dick drank orange juice out of the fridge and then grabbed his keys. "I'm going to the East End to see if he's there. If you're coming out, meet me back at the manor. B is in smash mode and will probably only listen to you or Alfred. Which reminds me, were the Hell is Alfred?"

It was three in the morning when Jason made his way tentatively down the stairs, into the kitchen, and out the front door of Wayne Manor. Of home. He found himself escaping to Crime Alley, cash and food in a backpack he held onto tightly. He wasn't in the right mindset to take or even want a gun, so he was without a weapon and alone in the worst part of town. Climbing through a semi-boarded up window, Jason curled up in his old hideout and waited for morning. All he had to do was get a hold of Talia, and she'd take care of the rest. Hopefully.

Alfred, of course, found him in his curled up position at six, but left him sleeping until nine, when he came back and nudged Jason awake.

Jason opened his eyes gingerly, and couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather see.

"Master Jason, I won't tell you not to do this, because I'm sure that would only galvanize your resolve, but please understand you _are_ getting better. Slowly, but you are. Two weeks ago you would have never been able to look someone in the eyes for this long." Alfred heard sirens in the distance and touched Jason's shoulder. "Come back."

Jason looked down at his hands and saw in his mind the blood stained there, only this time it was his own blood. He couldn't know for sure that he was getting better, and even if he was, his relationship with Bruce wasn't. If being a drone didn't get Bruce to love him, why wouldn't he get his personality back?

Jason felt the sting of tears behind his eyes. He wanted to be able to fight back, to have the shell that comforted him since even before his death. Or maybe he wanted a family to choose him instead of being stuck with him. Or maybe he just wanted to be filled with something, even if it was just the anger of his past. Or maybe he had no idea what he wanted, and he was pretty certain Alfred knew, but would never say it because he also knew how stubborn Jason was.

After a solid two minutes with his hand outstretched, Alfred bowed his head. "What I said to you before, when you first showed up in this state, is still true. You were a brash and stubborn boy, but you were the child most like a grandson to me because you were the one who needed me most. And, because of that, I find I need you as well. There will always be a place for you, if not in the manor, then in the family."

Jason laid back down after Alfred left, and was extremely uncertain if he was making a mistake. But that didn't matter as much as it should have. Alfred was right, he was stubborn, and he'd rather make a point than be happy. After all, Jason had never been sure of anything in his life. Even when he had had stability in the manor for those few precious years, he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. This time, he would throw the shoe himself.

All he had to do was get Talia's attention.


	3. Chapter 3

"_You were never at rest, You were always somewhere-bound. . ." -The Moon is Down by Radical Face_

Dick parked his motorcycle at Wayne Enterprises and walked to Crime Alley. Alfred had returned shortly before Dick left from the farmer's market (as far as Dick knew), and was now keeping Bruce company in the cave.

Dick sighed. No one had seen this coming? Really? It was Jason after all, and how many times had he run off even before things got bad for him?

_Oh wait,_ Dick thought. _Things were always bad._

The East End of Gotham greeted him with the smell of sewage and decay and the hushed whispers of pickpockets and homeless. He was sure that if Jason was here, he didn't notice it anymore because it was so engrained in his blood. This _was_ Jason, the mystery and the darkness and the desperation tinged everything he did. He lived in these people and they lived in him.

Except, somehow, his aversion to his family was so strong that it made Jason forget this and flee.

Running his fingers through his hair, Dick walked into a shady bar that was open for business despite it being around noon. Two patrons were inside, along with an older, overweight bartender manning the bar. They all eyes him warily as he asked quickly if they had seen anyone wandering around that didn't belong.

"What do you mean, don't belong?" one of the patrons asked sharply.

"I'm looking for my brother, he's- he's autistic and doesn't speak. Have you seen him? Around six feet tall, black hair, blue-green eyes. . ."

The man's eyes softened. "Sorry, we haven't seen him. We'll keep an eye out."

Dick thanked the men and left. Standing on the doorstep, he sighed once again. "Okay, Little Wing. I trust you."

He started his long walk back to Wayne Tower.

Jason couldn't wait for night to move because the Bat would surely be out, but moving in the day would prove difficult, too. If they were looking for him.

Were they looking for him? And, more importantly, did he want them to?

It was preposterous; when they thought he was dead, when he knew for sure he wasn't being sought after, he wanted nothing more than to be found and taken home. Now, with everything settling on a mind that barely comprehended he had a home to run back to, he wasn't so sure if he should.

It was hard to think of such abstract ideas when all his mind cared about was survival, so he kept moving. He had to find Talia, he had to leave, because that was who he _was_. He didn't _want_ to hate or be hated by a family he truly loved. He didn't _want_ to drown in blood and violence.

He wanted to go home, he wanted to look up to Dick, to watch movies with Tim, to sit in comfortable silence with Damian. He wanted Bruce to recognize his existence. Jason wanted all of these things, but he had made his choices in this life and the one that had come before, and those wants were not possible for him anymore. _So move_, he told his body. _Move, move, move._

And Jason began to run down the city streets, going anywhere but where he wanted to go.

"Sir, Richard tells me that Timothy will be here shortly."

Bruce said nothing; all his strength was being poured into not staring at the case positioned to his left. The clicking of his computer keys was uncharacteristically loud in his ears.

"Sir," Alfred said again, more pointed and imploring than before. Bruce whisked around in his chair to look at the older man with a glare on his face. No one was safe today.

"He's gone, Alfred. Left the house through the front door."

"Yes, sir. I'm aware." Alfred stood stoically, disapproving of the glare but ignoring it for the time being. After all, he _had_ seen this coming and kept silent about it. He had also left the money drawer in the kitchen open but that was a mystery he was sir his employer wouldn't solve.

"You knew this was going to happen," Bruce accused.

"Yes, sir. I did." Alfred stayed stiff, proper.

"Why didn't you stop him?" Bruce yelled, overwhelmed with anger.

"He was not a prisoner in this house."

"He's just a boy."

"He is twenty-one, sir, well over the age of a boy. If we're being philosophical, I don't believe that Master Jason has _ever_ been 'just a boy.'" Alfred glared right back now; the sulking would stop before the day was up, of that he was sure. As far as he was concerned, Jason was far from gone. He had finally seen hospitality, and it would bring the young man back to them soon enough.

"You have no idea what's going on in his mind." Bruce stood up, the case calling to him, making him move ever so slightly in its direction. _Jason Todd: A Good Soldier_, it said. A good soldier? A good son?

No. He was neither. Not now, anyway. But, then again, Bruce reasoned. He never had been a good father.

"You don't know his motivations or his thoughts either, sir."

"I might," squeaked a small voice from the stairs, its owner looking sheepish and guilty for eavesdropping.

"Tim," Bruce said.


	4. Chapter 4

"_And they said you were the crooked kind, And that you would never have no worth, But you were always gold to me." -Always Gold by Radical Face_

"I thought you were going to Jay's old stomping grounds," Tim said when he found Dick sitting in his room at the manor.

"I went already," Dick said smoothly, gesturing for Tim to sit next to him on the bed. "Didn't find anything."

"You were trained by the World's Greatest Detective, and you didn't find _anything?_"

Dick grinned brightly, but it was cunning, too, as if he was sharing some secret with Tim. "Come on, Timmy! We all know while we were Robins we each had one best quality. Put us all together, we'd be a perfect Robin!"

"Oh yeah?" Tim asked, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah," Dick laughed, ruffling Tim's hair while Tim attempted to bat him away. "I was the best at the acrobatics, Jaybird was best at street fighting, and you were by far the smartest. Probably what makes you the favorite, actually."

Tim actually choked on his own spit after that, and Dick looked on worriedly until Tim's face became a lighter shade of maroon.

"I am _not_ the favorite. You're insane. And the favorite. You're the insane favorite." Tim took a deep breath, trying to calm his lungs down.

Dick laughed, and it infuriated Tim just a little bit, because to him it was obvious. Richard Grayson was everyone's favorite, he was the apple of Bruce's eye, he could make Alfred crack a smile. The only time he had seen anyone _hate_ Dick was when Jason had fought them, but he realized soon after that it was just-

Jealousy. Tim's eyes dropped to his hands and Dick's laugh trailed off when he saw his brother's expression. "Hey, Tim," he said. "He doesn't have a favorite, okay? Bruce loves us all equally."

Tim scoffed involuntarily but waved off his brother's worry. "It's not about that. It's about-"

"Jason," Dick finished, and he put his arm around Tim to bring him closer. "I know. We have to find him, but I really think-"

"It's not about that, either, Dick!" Tim yelled, talking over his brother. "It's about…" Tim sighed. "Look at it this way. I think you're the favorite because you were the first and you balance Bruce out, and he listens to you more than he listens to me or anyone else, other than Alfred."

Dick opened his mouth to speak but was countered by a glare. Tim continued.

"You think _I'm_ the favorite because I'm logical and I think like Bruce does."

Dick wanted to add but knew better than to interrupt.

"Damian thinks _he's _the favorite because he's the biological son and because he was already highly skilled. So, who's missing?"

Dick cocked his head to one side. "No one says Jason, but I don't see how that-"

"When he was Robin, he was compared to you. That made him believe, probably, that you were the favorite. He was also a jerk, so _you_ probably thought you were the favorite, too. And then he was dead, and memories don't count. No one has ever though, _ever_, that Jason was held in Bruce's highest regard. And we joke that Bruce doesn't really have a favorite, but Jason doesn't joke about it, because Jason has never been _anyone's_ favorite. That kind of sucks, like, truly sucks, doesn't it?"

Dick stood up and leaned against his desk. He sighed loudly and closed his eyes, trying to find a flaw in Tim's logic. "But-" another long sigh, "when you first showed up, it was _all_ about Jason."

"Yeah, you're totally right," Tim said sarcastically. "Everyone was telling me to not be like Jason, that he failed, that he wasn't good enough, that he was _flawed. _I spent all my time trying to not end up like him. I bet you that's yet _another reason_ he never even considered coming back here. The only person who told him he meant something was-"

Tim's eyes widened and he bolted from Dick's room, charging down to the cave.

"You have no idea what's going on in his mind," he heard Bruce growl once he got to the cave, and he winced when Alfred countered.

"I might," he managed to say, and watched their faces tilt towards him.


	5. Chapter 5

"_And I knew in my heart that my old life was gone, That in walking away my name was undone, So I might as well run." -The Deserter's Song by Radical Face_

"Well look here, boys," a man jeered to no one as Jason shuffled out of one broken phone booth to try and find another. The subway was the only place he knew he would be safe from the Bat's prying eyes, but it was more dangerous down in the tunnels, and it was becoming harder to keep moving. He only had one quarter left from trying payphones; Jason was running out of time and options.

The stranger, a large man who looked homeless and half psychotic, turned and repeated his statement to people who weren't there. Jason paid him no attention, his face impassive as he neared another payphone. The man spun back around and grabbed Jason by the wrist as he walked by. Jason halted, eyes darkening slightly.

"Where are you going?" the man asked as he roughly pulled Jason to his larger frame.

Jason spun out of his grasp and kicked the man in the knee, dropping him to the floor. The stranger attempted to get back up, but Jason used his momentum to kick him in the stomach, propelling him into a nearby trashcan. The man refrained from getting up again, and the few onlookers passed by hurriedly.

Jason stood silent for a little while assessing, but he was starting to forget what he was down here for, so he moved to the payphone and put in his quarter.

After the first ring, Jason's hands began to shake slightly. Two rings brought a few tears to his eyes. Only one thought came to him: maybe he should just hang up.

He never got a chance to. "You have thirty seconds to identify yourself before I trace this number," a smooth voice answered, sounding calm and almost devoid of emotion.

Jason couldn't form words but he tapped excitedly on the payphone.

"Not going to speak, coward? Fine. The trace has already-" Jason heard a gasp on the other line. She had seen the call was from someone in Gotham.

"Bruce?" she asked quietly, but Jason was silent on the other line. "Damian?" Again, more silence, more hoping she'd get the hint.

"Answer me! Who is this?" Jason tapped impatiently; he felt like screaming.

"Gotham's Subway Terminal A," he heard her mumble. Then, another soft gasp. "Jason," she said, and it wasn't a question anymore. "Stay exactly where you are. I will come for you."

Jason let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, but wasn't sure if it was in relief or fear.

"Okay, hear me out," Tim said after Dick joined him in the cave with Bruce and Alfred. "I think he's going to contact Talia."

"Talia trusts no one," Bruce said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "He doesn't have a private number for her, nor would she care if he did get a hold of her."

"Talia defied her father when she pushed him in the Lazarus Pit. You _know_ how big of a deal that is, and so does Jason. He'll go to her." Tim looked to his older brother for support, but Dick shook his head.

"I don't buy it," Dick said. "Roy threw out the idea of putting him in the Pit and he flipped. He wouldn't go back."

Tim let out a frustrated sigh. "He could change his mind. Spending two weeks as a prisoner in your own body would be pretty persuasive. Besides, we can't be sure he was freaking out in opposition to the idea."

"You didn't see his face, Tim. He did _not_ want to go." Dick glanced over at the case before turning back to Tim.

"Things change!" Tim yelled, flustered.

"Jason doesn't," Bruce said, glaring at the case. "Jason doesn't change. He ran off and disobeyed me then, he does it now."

Dick rolled his eyes but saw the truth there, the ugly truth of a street kid who could never shake his strong contempt for authority.

Tim, however, was furious. Now that he knew what it felt like to be replaced, to wear the armor but feel left out of the family, he understood Jason. It had taken him a while, but now he knew. And maybe he was the only one.

"You won't _let_ him change. You know we actually had a nice conversation a couple of months ago? I asked if he wanted to join me for breakfast, and he said _you_ wouldn't like me being nice to him. It's the first thing out of his mouth, it's always on his mind. _You_ hate him, _you_ don't care, you, you, _you_. He did change, Bruce. He's not that kid, he's worse than that kid. And I'm pretty sure most of that is your fault."

Tim honestly never saw the punch coming, didn't feel it in the moment, either. The only reason he knew he was punched was because his jaw throbbed and he was on the floor. Tim was hyperaware of the silence, of Dick kneeling next to him, trying to help him up, but his vision was coated in red anger. He shrugged Dick off and stood on his own.

"I came here a few years ago," he said as his voice shook with emotion. "It seems like a few lifetimes, but it's only been a few years. And when I came here, I came because you needed someone by your side. I came because Jason was dead, and you had alienated your only remaining son. I came to keep you from going insane, from dying yourself. Do you remember that, Bruce? Do you remember you were _human _once?"

Bruce looked at Tim, horrified at what he had done, but the silence had overtaken him. Dick and Alfred looked from one to the other with baited breath.

Tim's tears stung at his eyes, threatening to fall. "I'm sorry, Bruce. I'm sorry I believe in redemption. I'm sorry I believe that when someone needs you by their side, you go to their side. I'm sorry I think he's worth something more than a glass case and a tattered uniform. I'm sorry you don't think I'm worth more than a punch to the face. But, most of all, I'm sorry you can't even say you're sorry."

Tim took off running, up the stairs, out of the manor, into his car, out of the driveway, away from home. It was the only way he knew he wouldn't turn back.


	6. Chapter 6

"_All is well now, Pay no mind. All is well now, I'm just fine, I'm just fine." -All is Well (It's Only Blood)_

Bruce stood silent, fists clenched at his sides, somewhere between wanting to cry and wanting to scream. Tim was gone. His brilliant son, who knew tragedy as much as one knew an old friend, yet still persevered, still found a way to smile for Dick and take orders from Batman.

But he wasn't in uniform. He wasn't Batman, and Tim wasn't Red Robin. He was being a son, not a partner. A brother, not an enemy.

He was being a great brother, actually. Which is why it was so unfortunate that Bruce was being a terrible father. He cursed inwardly; funny how it was so clear after the damage was done.

We he stopped his daydreaming, Bruce looked up to find Dick glaring at him, phone in hand. He never too his eyes off of Bruce when he talked.

"Tim, thanks for picking up. Listen, come back to the outer gate and we'll go _together_. This should be a brother thing." Dick sighed after listening to a reply. "No, Damian will stay here. But I am going to call Kori and Roy. That okay? Great. See you soon."

And, with that, Dick was gone too.

()()()()()

Dick waited until he saw Tim was okay before he called Roy's cell. He still wasn't sold on stopping Jason, but Lazarus Pits were dangerous, and if Tim was right Jason might be doing more harm than good.

Roy didn't answer his phone, so Dick left a message detailing the morning's events while Tim drove quietly, eyes red.

Dick hung up and huffed a sigh. "I'm sorry, Tim."

"_He'll_ never say it."

"Maybe he will, we don't know."

"Ever the optimist, Richard."

"Ever the pessimist, Timothy." Dick smiled and squeezed Tim's shoulder in support.

"Realist," Tim bit back, but his voice was lighter.

"Pessimist."

"Realist."

"Pessimist."

Tim snorted. "I'll turn this car around."

"You love having me along!" Dick yelled dramatically.

"That's debatable right now," Tim laughed as they left Gotham City limits. He heard the buzzing of a helicopter and looked out the window to see a low-flying black chopper.

He had no idea that it was Talia, leaving with Jason and her crew.

"Hey," Dick said after a comfortable silence. "Alfred just texted me. Said the private plane is fuelled and ready to go anywhere the Wayne heirs want to go."

Tim smiled. "Where would we be without him?"

"Dead or crazy," Dick joked.

Tim sobered, kept his eyes on the road. "Or both," he said, and he turned towards the small airport Bruce's jet was stationed.

Dick just sighed and stared out the window.

()()()()()()()

Roy got the message mere minutes after it was sent, but he didn't bother responding. Couldn't respond, really.

"Hey, Roy. And Kori. Um. . . There's this situation. It's being taken care of! Anyway, after you left, Jason slipped out. We're pretty sure we know where he's going, and we're en route, but Tim and I thought you should know. Don't freak out."

Roy stopped stirring his mac'n'cheese. Don't freak out, it said. Don't freak out? How would it be possible to _not_ freak out? And why was Dick so calm? And why was Batman not "en route?"

"Roy," Kori said as she moved behind him, warm fingers resting on his arms. "Why are you frozen in place with your phone to your ear?"

Roy blanched. "Don't freak out," he said.


	7. Chapter 7

"_A couple dumb mistakes, Bigger than we thought, Nothing left to do but run." -Winter is Coming, Radical Face_

Tim turned onto the tarmac and parked next to a warehouse, pulling a briefcase out of the back.

"Is that your uniform?" Dick asked.

Tim smiled sheepishly. "Always prepared, I guess."

"Don't suppose you've got one of mine, too?"

Tim looked at Dick, blushing a bit, before pulling a second briefcase out of the trunk and handing it to his brother. Dick grinned and ruffled Tim's hair.

"If you two are ready, we should be leaving," a voice said from behind them. Dick and Tim turned to see their youngest brother, grinning like a shark, chest puffed out in pride.

Tim slapped his palm to his forehead, trailing it down his face. "Why is the demon brat here?"

Dick furrowed his brow at both brothers. "Damian, how did you beat us here?"

His grin spread even wider. "I heard you talking from the stairs, Drake. I knew where you would go, you're utterly predictable. Besides," Damian growled, "you're going to ambush my mother when she has done nothing wrong. I have every right to accompany you."

Tim sighed dramatically and looked at Dick, eyes begging for him to force Damian to go back home.

Dick looked at Tim with something akin to pity. "Where's the bike you used to get here?"

"In the hull of the plane. I _will_ be going on that flight, Grayson."

Dick motioned with his hands to say something, then stopped. "We're not going to ambush your mom," he finally settled on.

"Which is why you don't need to come with us."

"Please, Drake, let the adults speak," Damian mocked.

Tim growled and looked pointedly at Dick.

But Dick was grinning, which scared both younger brothers. "I think we should all go," Dick said excitedly.

"Dick, no! You said before-"

"You can't be serious, Grayson-"

"Stop, stop, both of you. I'm pulling rank. Besides, little D might be able to get us in to talk with Talia." Dick pushed them both towards the plane. He was the only one smiling.

()()()()()()()

Talia held Jason's hand on the helicopter ride as her guards pretended not to notice. Jason kept his eyes straight ahead, and could barely comprehend anything that was going on. The farther he got from his family, it seemed, the thicker his catatonic state became.

She sighed as she looked him over. "Jason, I know you're in there. I know what help you want, why you contacted me in particular." Jason stayed impassive. She was reminded of the boy she sat next to long ago, who had cried at the mere mention of Bruce. "The first time I laid you in the Lazarus Pit, I was sure I had unleashed a curse, a plague. Ducra believed the same thing. But then I came to _know_ you, Jason. I learned your sadness and your anger. I told you that you were meant for something, and you became a master killer. Was that your fate? Is death and destruction the only thing you believe in?"

Jason squeezed her hand once, but that was all. He vaguely thought of Ducra, but barely remembered who that was.

Words echoed in his head: _One day your heart will shine brighter than the dark fury inside you. And that day will be glorious._

()()()()()()()

"Ollie, we've got to talk," Roy said as Kori stared out the window behind him, worry evident on her face.

Ollie looked from Roy to Kori and back again. "Uh oh, what happened?"

"Our friend is missing, and in a bad spot. Starfire and I are going to find him. Or, help find him, anyway."

"This is the guy you were in Gotham for?"

"Yeah. He's the guy that broke me out of prison." Roy looked at Kori sympathetically, knowing she was trying very hard not to melt the world around her.

"We never should have left him," she said fiercely. "That _family_ does not care to understand him. We are all he has!"

Ollie weighed her words. "Batman's an ass, but he's gotten better. I know you know Nightwing, so this shouldn't be news, but a little while ago he lost a partner. After that, I think he started making an effort. Caring about people, I mean. He and Nightwing patched things up, at least."

Kori dented the windowsill she was holding onto.

"Ollie," Roy said warily, "who we're talking about _is_ the partner that died."

"He's kind of dead, Roy." Ollie almost laughed.

Roy shrugged. "He got better."

Ollie did laugh at that. "Of course," he said. "You were teaming up with a princess and a zombie."

Roy thought about that for a second. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Well, he's family to you, from what I can see, and you're not some kid I can ground anymore. Just," Ollie paused, clasping Roy's shoulder. "Just don't be a stranger, okay?"

Roy nodded, unsure of what else to do. Kori walked to his side and squeezed his arm; impatience was coming off her in waves. Oliver saw and broke eye contact with Roy to move to the front door and hold it open for them.

After they left, he traced the splintered pieces of the windowsill Kori was standing by, just to make sure they had really been there.


	8. Chapter 8

"_Now I sit on the rooftop's edge. . .Trying to forget you, But we've never met." -Glory, Radical Face_

Arsenal and Starfire were in the ship, but they weren't flying so much as hovering in place over Star City.

This made Starfire angry and even more impatient. "What are we waiting for? We must find Jason!"

"I know," Roy said slowly. "And I could trace Nightwing's call, but he said something that stuck with me."

"Was it that Jason is_ missing_ and unable to defend himself?"

"Oh, he can defend himself alright," Arsenal mumbled, fiddling with the controls of the ship.

The hand Starfire put on Arsenal's shoulder was warmer than usual. He shifted uncomfortably. "Listen, Starfire. We're going to find him, but we need to make a stop first. Dick said that he was with Tim, not Bruce. We need to pick up Batman."

Starfire scoffed. "_We _do not have to do anything. I am a princess of Tamaran and a feared commander. On principle alone I could kick you out and take this ship."

Arsenal turned to face her, taking off his hat to better see her eyes. "Koriand'r, we have no idea what condition Jason is going to be in. Last time Batman wasn't there to find him he became. . .well, you know." Kori crossed her arms and averted her gaze.

"His mentor had nothing to do with that. The Pit changed his mind into what we know now."

"To an extent, yeah. But he came out of that Pit alone. And became a sociopath because the man he thought of as a father didn't love him. What happens when, for a second time, Bruce doesn't know or care enough to show up?"

Starfire glared at Arsenal. "I am sure it has been more than twice that Batman has not cared for his children."

Arsenal nodded, then turned back to the controls. "Which is why _we're_ going to Gotham."

"Do not assume that you lead me anywhere, Roy. I am not your cow."

"No, you're much too scary and pretty for that, princess. But you care about Jay. So do I. And, as much as I think Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody is beyond redemption, I thought the same thing about Ollie. If Green Arrow can be a good father-figure, so can Daddy Bats."

Kori huffed and sat next to Roy. He took that as an agreement and set a course for Gotham.

()()()()()()()

"Tell me about Todd," Damian demanded, after hours of awkward airplane silence.

"Don't talk about him like he's dead," Tim warned.

"Drake, you have to know that chances are slim we'll get to him before he uses the Pit, and there's an even lesser chance his psyche won't be completely destroyed afterwards."

"Shut up, Damian! That's why we're intercepting Talia."

"Guys-" Dick tried to interject, but they spoke over him.

"My grandfather might kill him before he even _gets_ to the Pit," Damian said coolly.

Tim fumed. "Stop talking."

"Stop acting like a child."

"Guys!" Dick yelled. Their attention snapped to him. "We don't know what we'll find once we get there, okay? But chances are, if Talia is with Jason, they'll get through her father. And, if Jason _does_ make it to the Pit, I'm not so sure we should stop him."

"What?" both younger brothers asked.

"Well, it's his decision, and we haven't really been helping him out."

"His decision?" Damian practically yelled. "He doesn't have the ability to _make_ decisions!"

"Dick, the Lazarus Pit turns you insane," Tim said slowly. "Maybe the effects weren't permanent the first time around, but there's no way of gauging his reaction now. Besides, if you didn't want to stop him, why show up?"

"Because, who can be sure it was the Pit?" Dick looked away, gathering his thoughts. "What if- What if it was just us?"

"I rescind my earlier comment towards you, Drake. Grayson is most certainly the child."

"Nope, little D, that would still be you. Hear me out. People have gone crazy from stress and trauma alone, they don't need the Pit to do it. What if taking a dip in the Pit was just a fraction of the problem? What if all the trauma coupled with nonstop training coupled with the coldest homecoming in existence turned him into what he is now?"

"No, we can't think like that," Tim said firmly.

"Why not? Why does it just have to be the Lazarus Pit?"

"Because if it wasn't just the Pit-"

"That opens up the possibility that it was just Todd all along," Damian finished for Tim. They looked at each other, agreeing for once.

"We are going to support whatever decision Jason makes." Dick didn't touch that last statement, didn't want to entertain the idea that maybe all the Pit did was strip away the façade of Jason's youth.

Damian leaned back in the chair, brooding for a bit. "I still want to know about him."

"Wouldn't we all," Dick snapped.

()()()()()()()()

Outside his complex, Ra's waited for his daughter, his coal eyes blazing with dark fury. He would not kill _her_, as his love was much too strong for that, but the boy no longer had Ducra's guidance, and so he was open season.

The plague unleashed years ago by his traitorous daughter would end, and he would see to it personally.


	9. Chapter 9

"_And after all the world's in bed, All the ghosts come sing along, But we'll forget them." –Along the Road, Radical Face_

Gotham's sky was just as ominous as its streets. This was what Roy noticed when Starfire guided the cloaked ship to hover above Wayne Manor. By the time the two got to the front door, Alfred was waiting for them.

"Might I suggest a less conspicuous form of travel? I fear the neighbors can still see you exiting your invisible ship," he quipped, stepping aside to allow them in.

Starfire was in no mood for games. "Mr. Pennyworth, where is your employer?"

Arsenal touched her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, but the heat made it hard to leave his hand there.

Batman came into view out of uniform, and it was one of the weirdest things Roy had ever seen.

"If you're here for Jason, he's gone. Dick and Tim are trying to bring him home. Damian appears to have left with them as well."

Starfire audibly growled. "And why are you not on his trail as well?"

The glare she received made Roy sweat, but she seemed unphased.

"He has made his choice. He doesn't want me or this family."

Arsenal practically snorted. "That's bull," he said. Alfred's mouth twitched upwards. Batman's did not. Arsenal coughed and shuffled his feet.

Starfire literally crackled with energy. "You are either lying or an idiot. Jason wants nothing more than to be with you, _loved_ by you."

Batman stood still, staring her down. They were still in the doorway of the manor.

Arsenal swallowed thickly. He had hoped Bruce would have just come with them, but he had anticipated resistance.

"Mr. Wayne," Roy said tentatively, "what happened the _last_ time Jason went halfway across the world without you?"

The glare faltered and there was silence. Roy didn't want to pull that card; it made it seem like Jason was inexperienced, incompetent, but it was all the Dark Knight would understand. Even after everything, Jason was Bruce's son, and threat of loss always brings out a father.

"We'll take the jet," he informed the Outlaws.

"No," Kori asserted. "We will take our ship. Get your uniform."

For once, Batman did as he was told.

()()()()()()()

Before they landed, Dick, Tim, and Damian changed into their uniforms. There were no flight attendants to worry about and the pilots never leave the cockpit.

"What's our plan?" Red Robin asked.

Nightwing secured his domino mask. "Aren't you the one with the plan?"

"You're the one that says we can't stop him."

"I'm pretty sure our main problem is how we're going to stop Ra's."

Damian interjected. "Didn't you say that Mother had probably retrieved Jason before we left?"

Tim looked over. "It's the most likely scenario given the time that Jason left."

"Then, by the time we land, my grandfather will already have won or lost."

Tim disagreed. "She'll be trying to lay low, which means. . ." Tim's eyes widened. "The helicopter I saw while we were driving! I thought it was a covert government op, but it's possible it could be Talia. She'll have to refuel which means if we find a small tarmac close to the Pit's location, we could beat Jason there."

Damian sniffed. "I know of a place we can land, but my mother will most likely use the same spot."

"That's fine," Dick interjected. "We're going to have to meet up with her and Jason anyway if we're going to beat Ra's."

Tim blinked. "Do you listen to the words that come out of your mouth? Talia is not going to team up with us against her dad!"

"You said it yourself; she disobeyed him before for Jason." Dick moved towards the intercom system leading into the cockpit. "Okay, little D, tell me the coordinates."

Tim sighed and rubbed his temples. "I really should have thought this plan through," he muttered.


	10. Chapter 10

"_But even though I've been lost all the time, I got hooks in my sides that you left there." –Homesick, Radical Face_

Talia's helicopter landed on the small tarmac just as a plane left three boys behind. She narrowed her eyes, a prickle on the back of her neck telling her these were more Batboys and, even though her son was among them, now was not the time.

"Get out there and make sure they don't cause any complications. Do not initiate a fight, but you may engage if necessary. Only the two elders, though; leave my son out of it."

The three guards scurried out of the chopper, and Talia was content to sit there and wait it out, rubbing the base of Jason's scalp soothingly.

But then, Jason did something he had never done in her presence before. He moved away from her and touched the window, looking out towards his brothers.

Nightwing saw, even though the guards were blocking his way. "Jay!" he yelled, and tried to push past one of the other men. The guard took Nightwing's arm and twisted it behind his back. He started to fight back when Talia interrupted.

"Stop!" she ordered, and the guard immediately released his hold. Red Robin exhaled audibly, while Nightwing rubbed his shoulder. Talia took Jason's hand in her own and walked towards the other boys. Damian tried not to fidget. "You boys have come a long way but you must turn back. This exchange will only harm Jason further." Jason remained impassive by her side.

"We're not here to stop you-" Nightwing started.

"Though we probably should be," Red Robin mumbled, earning him a pointed glare.

Nightwing continued. "We get that Jason . . ._ chose_ you." He swallowed thickly, the sentence harder to say than he anticipated. "We respect that this is his wish. But, your father is not going to give up the Pit just like that; you're going to need help if you don't want Jason to get hurt."

Talia contemplated the vigilante's words. "Jason chose me because I cared for him while he was here. I did not save my love for guilt and remorse once he was gone."

Red Robin couldn't help it. "You love him?" he blurted.

Talia glared at him and then looked gently on Jason, who she knew was listening despite his outward appearance. "It is . . . hard not to," she conceded.

To his credit, Nightwing tried really hard not to laugh, but a couple of chuckles came out anyway. "I'm sorry," he wheezed out immediately after. "It's just that I usually think the exact opposite."

Talia kept the snarl off of her face, but it still infused her tone. "Yes, a fiercely loyal companion, brilliant planner, tragic victim, and unconquered survivor. I can see why you all find it difficult to act civil."

"Look, when it comes to Jason, we are _all_ a little at fault," Tim said. "We haven't come here to fight you, with words or otherwise. Contrary to how it seems now, we're here to help."

"Good," Ra's said, stepping out of the black car they all failed to notice. Five assassins followed him. "My daughter and her little _pet_ are going to need all the help they can obtain."

Everyone fanned out and took a fighting stance except for Talia, who held a defensive position in front of Jason. Nightwing rolled his shoulder once to make sure it was still up to par and took a look at the number they had. Unfortunately, knowing their place, the guards with Talia joined the assassins with Ra's. That made it eight versus four, five if they counted Jason, which Dick didn't.

Nightwing counted again and tilted his head to one side. "How did all six of you fit in that car? Doesn't cramming mess with your style?"

"You're not helping, Nightwing," Robin growled from his position a few feet to the left.

Ra's paid no attention to them. "I am not unreasonable, Talia," he said, an edge apparent in his voice. "Stop this nonsense and leave him to the Detective."

"The _Detective _scorns Jason. Surely you do not want him to suffer as a prisoner of his own mind?"

"He will not use the Pit a second time. I don't care about your feelings towards either of them. Do you not remember the sociopath that came out of those waters?" Ra's was agitated, but focused on his daughter; Nightwing took this opportunity to move forward a bit, closer to the henchmen. His brothers did the same.

Surprisingly, it was one of Talia's guards that had moved to the other side who initiated the fight, grabbing a nearby assassin from behind and snapping his neck. Red Robin's eyes widened; he wasn't prepared for it to escalate quite that far. Using the dead body as armor, he evaded attacks from another assassin, and then tossed the body on top of the attacker. Two men rushed Talia but Robin jumped on one, knocking the wind out of him as he fell onto the concrete. The second made it to Talia before she swept her leg underneath him and he also fell. She kicked a blade he had produced out of his jacket, causing it to skid away from him, and then knocked him out with a precise kick to the skull.

Talia looked over to the others. Her son was engaging the attacker he had bowled over, dodging swipes of a small blade. Suddenly, Robin jumped up, knocking the man's hand in the process. The knife was then grabbed out of the air by Damian, who landed in a crouched position and drove the blade into the man's thigh. He screamed in pain and fell once again, clutching at his leg. Talia smirked and turned to where Jason had been standing.

Ra's was now standing behind him, sword held against Jason's neck.


	11. Chapter 11

"_I tore the dreams from my head and tossed them in the flames, And the smoke smelled like my past." –Sleepwalking, Radical Face_

The blade was cool against Jason's neck, but it barely registered. The only thing that Jason's half-fogged mind saw was Red Robin's face. It was shocked, scared. Afraid for Jason.

And suddenly, Jason felt like he was punched in the gut. Flashes of his own fear crossed his mind; flashes of his own mask looking up at a smiling face, wondering if that would be the end.

Had the crowbar been cold?

As suddenly as the flashes came, they receded, and Jason's mind was blank once again. The danger registered and he elbowed Ra's in the side, the jolt taking the air out of his lungs, causing him to loosen his grip on the sword. This gave Jason enough time to slip his arm between his neck and the blade and then turn his body so he was facing Ra's, who then earned a head-butt that knocked him on the ground. Jason stole the knife before it fell with Ra's, and then pointed the tip of the blade at the neck of a very stunned Al Ghul.

"Jason!" both Nightwing and Talia yelled, and the sword clattered to the ground. He was, once again, hunched and unthinking, but he still managed to turn towards them.

Nightwing sighed in relief and walked over to his brother, ruffling the younger man's hair. Talia took in the scene and then looked over to her own boy, shuffling his feet awkwardly trying not to look her direction. She sighed inwardly; Talia supposed she deserved to be ignored for her crimes in parenting, but it wasn't in her nature to apologize. She stood tall, even when she was wrong. Still, her eyes were sad when they finally left Damian and turned on her father, who had since recovered and sheathed his sword. She tensed as he dusted himself off.

"It seems the boy is very capable," Ra's said casually.

The brothers stood gaping in shock. Ra's rolled his eyes.

"Talia, I have decided that you may use the Pit for whatever you desire, just this once. But know this: Jason Todd barely survived his first dip in the Lazarus Pit. Madness still permeates his soul because of that first time. Do you really believe it is in the boy's best interest to subject him to that madness once again?"

"He wishes to think, Father," she said. "He wishes to feel, and for others to feel for him. He cannot do that in this state."

Ra's nodded. The guards began to file back into his car. "Very well. You know the way to the base, and I trust you can get there on your own. I will not be staying for the Detective's inevitable arrival."

With that, Ra's left the brothers and his daughter to their own devices. Red Robin let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Am I the only one who thought he had a point?" Tim said to the group, who avoided each other's gazes. "Ah, so _everyone_ thought he had a point and we're just going to intentionally make a mistake because we _think_ a catatonic and traumatized 21 year-old wants to make this mistake."

Nightwing forced a smile onto his face. "Exactly!"


End file.
